


my words were cold and flat (you deserve more than that)

by spiritsontheroof



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Jack Dalton Loves Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), M/M, Shooting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:48:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24052372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritsontheroof/pseuds/spiritsontheroof
Summary: MachatesTexas, he wants that on the record. He hates the sticky heat, he hates the Cowboys, he hates the endless flat land and the fact that the sky doesn’t have a single high rise decorating it. If Mac had it his way, he’d never have come down here in the first place, and he’s a little bit pissed at Jack for making him come all this way.
Relationships: Angus MacGyver & Desiree "Desi" Nguyen, Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016) & Riley Davis, Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Riley Davis & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 91





	my words were cold and flat (you deserve more than that)

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys! hope you enjoy this angsty little thing I wrote  
> come see me on tumblr @spiritsontheroof  
> title is home by michael buble

Mac _hates_ Texas, he wants that on the record. He hates the sticky heat, he hates the Cowboys, he hates the endless flat land and the fact that the sky doesn’t have a single high rise decorating it. If Mac had it his way, he’d never have come down here in the first place, and he’s a little bit pissed at Jack for making him come all this way. He’s been sweating since he touched down in Dallas, and the rental car air conditioner is doing very little to remedy his problem. 

He can’t find a single station that isn’t playing country music, so he just turns the radio off completely and grits his teeth as he drives along the never-ending backroad to the address Riley had said Jack’s phone was pinging from. 

Mac would also like it on the record that he isn’t stalking Jack. It wasn’t even his idea for him to come to Texas, it was Riley and Desi’s. They’d spoken with Jack, said he wasn’t doing so hot, and that he needs someone to be his voice of reason, that he needs someone to remind him they need him here, because apparently, he said something about there being no room for him in LA anymore. Jack had been stateside for a few months now, and they had all just expected he would come back. But days and then weeks and then _six months_ passed, and he still hadn’t come home. 

(When Riley says this to him, Mac points out that Texas is Jack’s home. Jack is southern as they come, cowboy as they get, all southern twang and horrible music taste and country charm. Riley tells him he’s an idiot and buys him a plane ticket before Mac can tell her no.) 

That’s how Mac ended up here. He’s supposed to bring Jack home, supposed to somehow convince Jack there’s still a place for him in their little found family. Even though Mac hasn’t heard from him since the mission ended. Jack talks to Riley often, checks in with Desi, but he hasn’t called Mac the first time. Mac pretends it doesn’t hurt, pretends it doesn’t crawl under his skin and make him itch to know why. 

(Pretend is the key word. It’s eating Mac alive and he misses Jack so badly it hurts.) 

Mac runs a hand over his face as he turns down another county road, trying to imagine what he’s going to say to Jack when he sees him. He keeps drawing blanks, words failing him even in an imaginary conversation. He’s probably the last person Jack wants to see; he thinks that much is clear from the radio silence Mac’s been on the receiving end of lately. 

Mac’s pulled from his thoughts by the sudden change of terrain, smooth dirt traded out for rough gravel as he drives up to a gate that’s protecting endless land that’s covered in animals, a barn, two little houses in the back, people all hard at work as Mac looks out over everything. He checks his GPS, makes sure it matches the address Riley had sent to him. Sure enough, he seems to be in the right place. He’s about to call Jack, tell him he’s here and they need to talk, when a small woman with long dark hair walks up to the gate. Mac recognizes her immediately; Jack had shown him enough pictures of her. He steps out of the car, walking up with the politest smile he can manage with the butterflies in his stomach. 

“Ms. Dalton?” Mac says and she nods, eyeing him. “I’m Angus MacGyver. I’m a friend of Jack’s.” 

“Angus MacGyver.” She repeats and then he sees realization dawn over her face, breaking into a smile that is so much like Jack’s, it’s uncanny. She opens the gate and walks through, pulling Mac into a hug he wasn’t expecting. 

“It’s about time I get to meet you. My son has only been talking about you for years.” She says and pats him on the back, releasing him from her embrace. 

Mac smiles at her and puts his hands in his pockets. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms. Dalton.” 

She shakes her head. “Please, sugar, call me Sarah.” 

Mac nods with a smile. “Call me Mac,” he says, and she laughs. 

“Well, come on, now. Jack’s in the house, I’m sure he’ll be just thrilled to see you.” Sarah says, looping her arm through Mac’s and tugging him to the house. 

_I hope_ _so_ , Mac thinks as they walk through the well-maintained grass. “I’m sorry to surprise you like this, I hope it’s not an imposition.” 

“Nonsense, sweetheart, it’s no such thing. I’m glad you’re here.” She tells him, patting his arm with her other hand. 

They talk all the way back to the house, Sarah’s questions about Mac never ending, not that he minds. She’s sweet, and Mac has never felt so welcomed by someone he’s only known for five minutes. They make it to the house and Mac holds the door open for her, thankful for the gust of cool air that washes over him. Sarah walks directly to the back door, opening the screen and stepping out onto the porch. 

“Jack!” Mac hears her call, “Come in a minute, would you? Someone here who’d like to see you.” She says before turning and coming back in. Mac looks around the house, endless pictures on the walls of what he assumes are children and grandchildren, decorations over everything. It’s so homey, more than anything Mac has ever know, and it makes him smile. 

“He’s coming. Sit down, make yourself at home. I just made sweet tea; can I get you a glass?” She asks, ushering him into a chair. Mac remembers Jack going on and on about his mom’s sweet tea, so he nods. 

“That’d be great. Thank you.” Mac smiles and they resume talking. She wants to know all about what it was like being a bomb tech, about his and Jack’s friendship, and Mac finds himself answering every question like he’s known Sarah for years. He’s in the middle of recounting one of his and Jack’s good days in the sandbox, when Mac had used a gum wrapper to disarm a bomb, when he hears the screen door open. 

“Who is it, Mama?” Jack says from around the wall that hides the door from the kitchen. 

“Just come in here, son.” Sarah says, exasperated, looking at Mac with a fond eye roll at Jack’s questions. 

“Alright, alright, I’m comin’.” Jack calls back and the sound of his footsteps make Mac anxious all over again, causing his hands to shake as he sits at the table. 

Jack comes into the room and Mac sees recognition fly across his face, making Jack stand frozen at the edge of the kitchen. 

Jack looks so different. His hair is longer, beard thicker than Mac’s ever known it to be. He looks good, the salt and pepper suits him, and Mac’s trance is broken by Jack’s voice. 

“Mac.” Jack finally says. 

“Hey, man. Long time, no see.” 

  
  


\-- 

  
  


Jack is at a loss for words when he sees Mac sitting at the kitchen table, can’t think of anything to say. 

“I - yeah, man, it’s been a while.” Jack nods, going to the sink to wash the dirt from his hands. He looks at his mother as if to say _why didn’t you warn me, what is he doing here?_ She shakes her head just barely and passes behind Mac, patting his shoulder as she walks out the front door. 

Jack dries his hands and turns back to Mac, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. “So. What brings you down here?” 

Mac clears his throat, fingers twitching, and Jack can see the kid itching for something to fidget with. “I, uh. I just came to see you.” 

“Right.” Jack says skeptically, pushing off the counter and walking over to the cabinet by the door. He pulls out a box of paperclips that have been there his whole life, Jack doesn’t think anyone has ever moved them, and tosses them on the table. Mac looks up at him and gives him a grateful smile as he pulls one free, tension visibly easing as he starts to twist the metal in his fingers. Jack gets distracted for a minute watching Mac because he can’t quite believe he’s here. He doesn’t know why he is, it’s been months, why did Mac coming asking after him _now?_

“Why are you really here? I know you didn’t come all this way just because you missed me.” Jack questions as he sits down in the chair to Mac’s left, leaning forward and folding his hands in front of him. 

“Really, Jack. I just missed you.” Mac says and his face is so open and honest, a rarity for Mac to look so vulnerable, and Jack believes it. 

“I missed you, man. It’s good to see you.” Jack says, smile spreading across his lips. 

Jack knows what you’re thinking. _You could have seen him when you came home, Jack, why didn’t you just go to LA?_

Truth is, Jack doesn’t know. He doesn’t know why the thought of Los Angeles made him sick, he doesn’t know where the sinking feeling that he doesn’t fit at the Phoenix came from, he doesn’t know why he couldn’t make himself call Mac. He came back and he was different, he’s become someone he doesn’t think Mac will understand, and the thought of Mac being afraid of him, being disgusted by the things he’d had to do to survive made him want to cry. So, Jack had tucked his tail and gone running home to Texas, to his mama and his sisters and people he knew would love him, no matter what he had to do as a soldier. 

Mac smiles in that way he does, shy but bright, and Jack feels an ache he’s had for months disperse at the sight. He’s sad, truly pathetic, because he’s been wishing after that smile from thousands of miles away, unnecessarily torturing himself by staying here instead of just going back to LA, back to Mac, all because he was ashamed of the things he’d done. 

“How long are you staying?” Jack asks, scratching at his beard. 

Mac scoffs a laugh and shrugs. “Riley bought me a one-way ticket. So, I guess as long as it takes to convince you to come back to LA with me.” 

Jack shakes his head. He knew it, knew Mac hadn’t just come to visit, knew there was something else bringing him here. 

“You better just go on home, then, cause I’m not coming back to LA.” Jack says, barely keeping his tone from venturing into harsh as he stands up and walks away. 

Mac looks shocked by the sudden change in Jack’s demeanor. He thought, maybe, Jack would be willing to come back, considering how well he reacted to Mac being there in the first place. He stood up from the table, drink forgotten, and followed Jack out the back door into the setting sun. 

“Why not, Jack?” Mac asked, practically running now as he tried to catch up to Jack. 

Jack doesn’t turn around, doesn’t answer, just keeps walking out to where they’d pulled the tractor into the yard. It needed fixing and he needed to think, so he just prayed Mac would leave him alone. Of course, Jack couldn’t get that lucky, Mac’s too stubborn to just leave well enough alone. 

“Hey, I’m talking to you.” Mac says as he reaches Jack, who is already sliding under the tractor and away from the conversation. 

“I’m not having this conversation with you, Mac. The answer is no. I’m fine here.” Jack says, thankful Mac can’t see his face to tell he’s lying. 

“Answer the question, Jack. Why won’t you come back?” Mac persists, and Jack can tell just by his tone that Mac is barely keeping his cool. 

Jack sighs and reaches over for a wrench, thinking about how easy a fix this would probably be for Mac. He goes back to work, fighting his desire to tell Mac exactly why he couldn’t go back. It would only make things complicated, would only make Mac ask what he did that could be so horrible. This conversation would end up being painful, would end in Jack being left for good by the most important person in his life. 

Jack is lost in thought when Mac grabs his ankle, pulling him and the roller he was laying on out from under the tractor. “Dude, what the hell?” 

“What the hell is your problem, man? I came all the way down here just for you and you can’t even look me in the eye to tell me why you won’t come home?” Mac says, voice teetering on a yell as he looked down at Jack, anger flaring in his blue eyes. 

“What do you want from me, Mac?” Jack stands up, throwing his wrench to the ground. “You want me to ask how high just because you said jump? You want me to go back to following you around, just to be forgotten as soon as I have to leave? I’m done with you, man, and I’m not coming back to Los Angeles. So, get the hell out of my face.” Jack is yelling by the time he finishes, and Mac is staring at him, trembling lip the only thing betraying his emotions. 

“Just go, Mac, okay? I’ll pay for your flight back. Just go.” Jack says, exhaustion evident in his voice. He’s tired of thinking about it, about Mac, wants these stupid feelings to just go away. He wishes he could go back to that day, the one where he signed up for a second tour just to follow some kid he’d stupidly fallen in love with, and not get off the plane. Mac doesn’t need him, he never did, Jack just drags him down. 

Mac doesn’t say anything, he just turns and walks away, and Jack is grateful that for once, Mac doesn’t argue. 

Jack lays back down and slides back under the tractor, and if he cries, well, that’s between him and John Deere. 

  
  


\-- 

  
  


Mac holds it together as he tells Jack’s mom goodbye, denies her pleas for him to stay for dinner, and he knows she can tell something is up but he just wants to get out of there. Riley calls him and he picks up, her optimism for the trip washing away with his tears as he cries whole way into the city. He hurts, sharp and white hot, Jack’s words burning in his chest as they echo in his ears. 

_I’m_ _done_ _with you._

The words rattle around in Mac’s head as he drives to the airport, ready to get on the late flight back to LA. He wishes he had never let Riley and Desi talk him into this and if he had known he was signing up to get crushed by the only person he’s ever been in love with, he’d have told Riley no a thousand times over. 

  
  


\-- 

  
  


“Jack Wyatt, what the hell did you say to that boy?” Sarah says, storming across the backyard. 

Jack sniffs and shakes his head, dragging his forearm across his eyes to wipe his tears away. “Leave it alone, mama, please. I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“You come out here right now and tell me what happened.” She demands, hands on her hips as she waits for her son to roll out from under the tractor. 

Jack sighs and pushes himself out, sitting up and looking at his mom. He pinches the bridge of his nose before wrapping his arms loosely around his knees. “Listen, I said some things that I shouldn’t have. He left. The end.” 

Sarah rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “Well, he was barely keeping’ it together when he left, couldn’t get outta here fast enough. What did you say?” 

“I- I told him I was done with him. And that I wasn’t comin’ back to people who forgot about me as soon as I was gone, and to get the hell out of my face.” Jack says, hanging his head to avoid his mother’s disappointed look. 

She doesn’t say anything, just sighs and sits down next to him on the grass. Jack chokes off a sob, trying to force the tears back. “Sweetheart. Why are you doing this to yourself?” 

Jack presses his face into his hands and shakes his head minutely, breath catching in his chest. “I don’t know, mama. I just… I thought I could pick my life back up like it was before I left. And then when I came back, I was too different to just go back to LA and pretend I was okay. 

“I did things this time around, things I’m so ashamed of, things I’ll be wearin’ on my heart forever. And I just know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he isn’t gonna want a thing to do with me when he finds out what I’ve done.” Jack’s voice shatters on the last word, reducing him to shaking sobs and shallow breaths as his mom wraps her arms around him. 

“Oh, my boy. You know something?” Sarah says, rubbing a hand up and down her son’s back, “We’ve all done things we’re not proud of. And most of us don’t even have a half decent reason for it. You do the things you do for the sake of your country.” 

“He’s so good, mama. He always does what’s right, never wants to hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it if it can be avoided. I’ve hurt innocent people. I don’t know if that’s something he can overlook.” Jack says, looking over at his mom, who was clearly heartbroken to see him feeling like this. 

Sarah sighs and wipes the tears off her son’s face. “Listen to me. You’re a hero, baby, you save lives. Hell, I know you saved his life a time or two, he told me so. Sometimes, you have to do bad for the greater good. I’m sure Mac knows that. And I don’t think for a minute he’d hold your faults against you.” 

If Jack’s being honest, she’s right. Mac wouldn’t hold it against him because he knows Jack would have only hurt innocent people if he had no other choice. But Jack, he holds it against himself. It eats at him, casts storm clouds into his eyes and darkness over his heart, makes him feel like he doesn’t deserve to be treated like a human instead of a monster. But Mac knows Jack inside and out, has read the worst parts of Jack’s file, and has always trusted him anyway, always been his friend. It’s part of why Jack’s so in love with him. Mac’s heart is bigger than the state of Texas, it always has room in it for people with nowhere else to go. Jack thinks Mac might be the closest thing to an angel he’s ever come across. 

“It doesn’t matter now. I screwed up. I hit him where I knew it would hurt. Mac isn’t going to forgive me.” Jack sighs, shaking his head. 

“Maybe not. But isn’t it worth trying to mend things if you love him so much?” Sarah asks and Jack immediately goes on the defensive. 

“Mama, I don’t -” 

“Oh, hush it. I could see it all over both of your faces as soon as you saw each other today.” Sarah says as she stands and dusts herself off. “Call him, sweetheart. Apologize, grovel, whatever you need to make him realize you didn’t mean those things you said. Tell him what you told me. Open up to him, and I’m sure he’ll still love you all the same.” 

Jack nods and closes his eyes when she leans down to kiss his forehead before heading inside. He grabs his phone from its place in the grass, stares at it and tries to gather the nerve to dial Mac. But he knows Mac isn’t going to take his call, not after what Jack said to him, so he calls Riley instead. 

She picks up on the first ring and immediately starts yelling at him, and he has to beg her to tell him where Mac is. It takes a while and he has to promise to let her drive the Shelby, but she finally tells him that Mac is already on a plane back to LA. Jack sighs, because that’s exactly what he was afraid of. She tells him she’s booking him a flight as they speak, all he has to do is print it before he leaves, and Jack is so thankful for her ability to know what he’s thinking before he can say it. 

Jack showers in under five minutes, packs in under ten, and is out the door with a plane ticket in hand in under thirty. His mom drives him to the airport, kisses him goodbye and makes him promise to call her to tell her how it goes. He agrees and gets to the boarding gate with five minutes to spare, and before he knows it, he’s in the air, only three hours between him and Los Angeles.   
  


\-- 

Jack lands in LA at a little after midnight and he gets a cab straight to Mac’s house, too anxious to wait until tomorrow to try and mend the fence. Traffic on the freeway takes a twenty-minute trip up to an hour and a half, and Jack can only figure it’s the universe punishing him for being so horrible to Mac. 

Jack finally gets to the house, hands the cabbie fifty bucks and tells him to keep the change, turning to stare at the house as the cab pulls away. It looks exactly like Jack remembers on the outside, not that he doesn’t expect it to. Mac is a creature of habit and he hardly ever changes anything, especially when it comes to his grandfather’s house. Jack takes a deep breath and tries to reign in his nerves as he walks up the driveway, the sound of his heart pounding against his ribs feeling louder than his knuckles banging on the wooden door. 

After he knocks, he waits, anxiety worsening with every passing second and Jesus, Jack thinks he might pass out. Finally, he hears footsteps coming towards him, old floors giving away every movement just like they always had before. 

Mac opens the door and contempt immediately flashes across his face when he sees Jack, jaw clenching in solidarity with Mac’s white-knuckle grip on the edge of the door. “No,” is all Mac says and goes to close the door. 

“Mac, wait,” Jack says, throwing a hand out to stop the door from closing in his face, “please. Five minutes, alright? I came to apologize.” 

Mac looks him over and when his eyes catch the light, Jack can see that they’re bloodshot. _You made him cry,_ says the little voice in Jack’s head, sitting more weight on his already heavy heart. 

“I don’t want an apology. What’s done is done. You made your bed, so lie in it.” Mac says after a few minutes pass, and he closes the door in Jack’s face anyway. 

Jack wants to be upset but he’s not. He knows it’s what he deserves. Jack figures he’s just going to have to strap in for the long haul. 

Jack dreads it. 

Mac holds a damn good grudge. 

\-- 

Jack gets reinstated at the Phoenix and rejoins the team, back in the field within two days of coming back to LA. He still fits even though it doesn’t feel right, but that’s not because of the team. 

It’s because of Mac. 

Jack has been working with them for three weeks now, mission after mission, joining forces with Desi to take care of everyone in the field. 

Mac hasn’t said a word to him the entire time. 

He knows what you’re thinking. _That’s_ _an_ _exaggeration_ _, Jack,_ _has to_ _be._

It’s not. 

Three weeks, not a single word. 

Whatever, Jack is a grown man. He can deal with it. The two of them don’t need to speak for Jack to know exactly what he’s thinking or for Jack to effectively watch his back. Missions go smoothly, no near misses or nearly getting disavowed or anything like that. 

Jack should have known they were due for a bad one. 

They’re screwed. Like, _Cairo_ screwed. They got separated from Riley and Desi a while back, having to split up to keep from being shot like sitting ducks. Jack has three bullets left and Mac is standing there, very clearly drawing a blank on what he’s supposed to do. Jack watches him as he moves almost franticly throughout the room, running his fingers through his hair over and over as he tosses the place in search of something he can’t seem to find. 

“Can you just... talk?” Mac says suddenly, turning to look at him with wide, desperate eyes. 

“Excuse me?” Jack questions, clicking his clip back up into his gun. 

Mac huffs and goes back to his search. “Talk to me, okay, because I can’t think and if I don’t come up with something in the next five minutes, we’re going to die in here.” 

Jack nods and scans his brain quickly for something long winded and pointless. “When I went back to Texas, my mama had me a list of chores a mile long. Everything needed fixin’, the tractor and the kitchen sink and the truck and the fence needed mendin’. It was just one think right after another. I didn’t think I was ever gonna get it all done, y’know? And I actually didn’t, cause I had to come on home to California, but anyway. I was fixin’ the truck one day, and I started thinkin’ about that time in the sandbox that you jumped the Humvee with the battery from the radio and the antenna from the SAT phone, and I -” 

“I got it.” Mac says suddenly, realization dawning across his face and for the first time in what seemed like forever, Mac smiles at him. 

Jack smiles back. “Good, alright, get on with it then, man.” 

Mac does, moving a million miles a minute, clever hands and nimble fingers building something Jack could never come up with on his own. _Without him,_ Jack thinks, _I’d_ _have ended up in a box a long time ago._

Mac finishes just as the bad guys start banging on the weakly barricaded door. Jack runs over to him, ready to take cover behind the rusty metal structure and then book it out of here. Mac looks at him to say, _Ready?_

Jack nods. _R_ _eady._

Mac lights it up as the bad guys bust through the door, guns blazing. An explosion rings through the room and they take off like bats out of hell, running as fast as their feet will take them to the exfil coordinates Matty sent them. It’s only a mile or so, so they don’t bother stopping to hotwire a vehicle, not wanting to waste the time. Jack starts feeling a little lightheaded, a white-hot pain blooming in his lower abdomen and _oh, no._ Jack touches his stomach and sure enough, it’s covered in blood. Adrenaline is a bitch. He didn’t even know he got hit. 

_It’s_ _okay_ , he thinks. They can see the exfil now, and there’s medics on sight, one last push, man, _come on. Mind over matter._

Apparently, bullet wounds cannot be willed away, because next thing Jack knows, he’s lying in the grass, dizzy with blood loss, Mac’s panicked face the last thing he sees before he slips into unconsciousness. 

\-- 

_Lost_ _a lot of_ _blood._

_Stable but critical._

_Touch and go._

_Might not make it._

_Might not make it._

Mac can’t stop hearing those words over and over and over again. They make his chest hurt, make him feel like he can’t catch his breath, cause him to practically collapse against Riley when he hears the doctor say them. Mac did everything he could in the field that day, tried to stop the bleeding as he called for Matty to send him some help. He should have cauterized it. He didn’t have a lighter, but he should have figured something out, he should have made something, he should have done _more._

He tells this to Desi while Jack is in surgery, in the harsh light of the waiting room over a bad cup of coffee. It’s just the two of them now, Matty and Russ are back at the office and Bozer dragged Riley home to get some sleep. They’ve been there for hours and they’re exhausted, dirty, and Mac is still covered in Jack’s blood. 

“What if they can’t save him?” Mac says and his voice breaks as he looks across the aisle at her. She chews on the inside of her cheek for a minute and looks at the floor, silence hanging heavy between them as Mac tries to hold it together. 

“Jack is strong, Mac. He’s a fighter.” Desi says and Mac just scoffs, shakes his head. Mac knows that Jack is strong. He’s strong and he’s tough and he’s a stubborn son-of-a-bitch, that much has been obvious over the past few weeks. Mac has barely spoken to him, the only words shared the ones that first night on Mac’s porch and the ones today, just before Jack had been shot. And Jack hadn’t given up the whole time, had kept watching Mac’s back and coming over for game night like he and Mac were the same as they’d always been. It was Jack’s way of apologizing, of showing Mac he cared, and Mac had totally dismissed it, too busy holding a grudge to fix his relationship with the one person who had always cared about him. 

“What if being strong isn’t enough this time? What if he can’t just push through this?” Mac questions, volume rising in anger. 

Desi shoots him a warning look and Mac shrinks back into his seat with a sigh. He needs to calm down, shouldn’t take his anger out on Desi when she’s trying so hard to be there for him. He's not even angry with her, he knows that. He’s angry at the world, angry at the person who shot Jack, angry with himself for not letting Jack fix things between them. 

Desi leans forward and takes Mac’s hand in hers, squeezing it hard. “Go home, okay? Clean yourself up and come back. If he’s out before you get back, I’ll call you.” 

Mac opens his mouth to protest but he thinks better of it and just nods, squeezing Desi’s hand tightly before letting go. 

“Thank you.” Mac sighs as he stands up to leave. 

Desi shakes her head and waves him off. “Don’t thank me. Jack's my family, too.” 

Mac gives her a sad smile and then he’s gone. 

\-- 

Mac tosses the bloody clothes after his shower. Yeah, he knows the secret to getting blood stains out, but he can’t bear the sight of them. They already make a horrid memory flash in his mind, the image of Jack in the medevac plane, flatlining as they rushed him to a hospital, Mac’s fingers wrapped so tightly around Jack’s that it’s a wonder he didn’t break them. 

Mac shakes the picture from his mind, drops his bloody jeans into the garbage can and turns to walk out of the kitchen. On his way out of the room, his eyes wander to the shelves by the front door, full of framed pictures of all Mac’s favorite people, and one in particular catches his attention. It's a picture Riley took of him and Jack, bent over engine of the GTO, laughing and up to their elbows in grease. Mac picks it up and runs his fingers over where Jack is smiling, eyes crinkled in the corners, and he can’t help but start to cry, because what if he never sees that smile again? What if there are no more games nights and _Die_ _Hard_ marathons and Sunday afternoons with beer and football? What if Mac spent their last few months together not speaking to him over something Jack tried time and time again to take back? 

What if Mac never gets to tell Jack how he feels? 

Mac stands and stares at the photo, having himself a pity party, when he’s interrupted by his phone ringing. Mac pulls it from his pocket and checks the caller ID. 

It’s Desi. 

Mac steels himself, braces for the bad news. “Hello?” 

“Hey, it’s me. Jack’s out of surgery. He’s gonna be okay.” 

\-- 

Mac flies back to the hospital, wishfully thinking Jack might be awake when he gets there. He’s not, the doctors tell him when he arrives. 

“He’s still heavily sedated, but you’re welcome to sit with him,” is all Mac needs to hear before he’s into Jack’s room and in the bedside chair. 

He sits there for hours just watching, thanking every god he can think of for giving him a chance to make things right with Jack. 

“You really scared me there, man.” Mac confesses, long after visiting hours are over and everyone has come to check on Jack and gone again. 

“I thought... I thought I lost you. And suddenly, not speaking to you felt so stupid. Knowing that if you died, we’d have been on bad terms, it killed me. All I wanted to do was fix things and tell you how sorry I was for making you try so hard. I felt like I was justified but then you were almost gone, and it felt like such a waste of time.” 

Mac reaches up and wipes at his eyes, tears falling. He looks back to Jack’s sleeping form, still so pale and dim, nothing like Jack should look. His face is ill-suited to look so serious. He should always be smiling, laughing, lighting up the room. Mac takes Jack’s hand in his, much warmer than it had been when Mac held it while the medics fought to keep Jack alive. 

“I kept thinking about all our good times. In Afghanistan, with the Phoenix. All the times I wanted to tell you how I felt. I've always been so afraid, you know? But now I’m more afraid of losing you and having never said it.” Mac murmurs, thumb stroking over Jack’s scarred knuckles. He smiles a little, sighing to himself. It’s so pathetic, Mac thinks, that Jack almost had to die for Mac to stop being stubborn and let everything go. 

“I’m so sorry. For everything.” Mac apologizes and even though Jack can’t hear him, it lifts a weight off him all the same. 

\-- 

Jack is sedated almost twelve hours when he finally starts coming to. Mac is still there, holding his hand like he has been all night. He’s twiddling a paper clip he lifted from the nurses’ station to pass the time. 

“Hey,” Jack croaks and Mac jerks his head up and pulls his hand away from Jack’s, smile breaking out on his face. 

“Hey, man. How you feeling?” Mac asks, reaching over to the table beside Jack’s bed for the cup of water. Jack takes it and drinks it all, eyes closed in bliss like he’s drinking the liquid of the gods. 

Jack hands the cup back and leans his head back. “I feel like I got shot.” He mumbles and opens one eye to peek at Mac. “You look like hell. You been here all night?” 

“Desi made me go home while you were in surgery, but other than that, yeah. Been right here all night.” Mac admits, rubbing at the back of his incredibly sore neck. 

Jack hums and doesn’t say anything for a minute, just looks at Mac. 

“Well, what’d you let go of my hand for?” Jack demands and Mac laughs wetly before sliding his hand back into Jack’s waiting grasp. Jack smiles at him then and Mac could sob at the sight, that’s how happy he is to see it. 

“I have to go get the nurse, alright?” Mac asks and Jack nods. Mac squeezes his hand one last time before he gets up to alert the nurse. 

\-- 

The nurse comes in and checks his vitals, gives him some pain killers while Mac stands outside so he’s not in the way and sends out a text to let everyone know Jack is awake and in good spirits. 

They’re all there inside of fifteen minutes, crowding into the hotel room despite the nurse insisting he can only have two visitors at a time. One look from Matty shuts that down quickly and the nurse tells him she’ll be back in a few hours to check on him again. 

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” Riley scolds, voice angry but relieved at the same time, tears forming in her eyes. 

Jack beckons her in and Riley goes in gently, wrapping her arms around him as best she can without hurting him. 

“I’m sorry, honey. Never again. Promise.” Jack whispers and Riley nods before standing up, sniffling and wiping her eyes. She sees Mac, who’s still lingering in the door, and walks over while everyone else focuses on Jack, talking and laughing and trying not to cry. 

“Hey,” She acknowledges, “you alright?” 

Mac nods, wrapping an arm around Riley’s shoulders as she leans into him. “I’m just glad he’s okay.” 

“You and me both,” Riley agrees. “You should go home and get some rest. We can stay with him for a while.” 

“No, no. I'm good. I need to be here. My brain still hasn’t processed that he’s okay, you know? If I go home, I won’t be able to sleep.” Mac admits quietly. “I’m gonna go get some coffee.” 

Riley nods and he lets her go, ducking out silently. He walks down the hallway to the coffee machine for what feels like the hundredth time in the last twenty-four hours and puts in the two dollars it takes to get the lukewarm liquid. His hands are shaking as he slides the quarters in and as much as he’d like to lie and say it’s from the caffeine, it’s not. They've been shaking all night, his ever-steady hand gone after the terrifying night he had. He stays in the hallway for a while, giving himself time to relax, catch his breath, and realize that everything is okay. When his hand steadies and his chest stops aching and he stops feeling like he might cry at the drop of a hat, he wanders back out to Jack’s room. 

Mac was gone awhile, and everyone has dispersed by now, leaving Jack on the bed, watching some telenovela on the shitty hospital cable. He looks up when he hears Mac enter, smiling before turning his attention back to the television. 

“Where’d you run off to?” Jack asks as he sits up slightly, wincing as he does. 

Mac sits back down in the chair by the bed, kicking his feet up on the mattress. “Needed some coffee,” he says, folding his hands on his stomach. 

Jack nods and focuses on the TV. Not that Jack would ever admit it, but he loves telenovelas. He watches them during every hospital stint, even though his Spanish is limited at best. They watch TV in friendly silence, enjoying each other’s company for the first time in forever. 

“So,” Jack says as the credits roll on the screen, “does this mean you’re done giving me the silent treatment?” 

“I am done giving you the silent treatment,” Mac confirms, putting his feet onto the floor and moving the chair closer to the bed. “I’m really sorry I was doing it to begin with.” 

Jack waves him off. “No, man, I totally deserved -” 

“No, you didn’t,” Mac interjects, “you tried to apologize, and I was being a dick. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that. You shouldn’t have almost had to die for me to stop holding a grudge.” 

Jack looks at Mac for a minute, like he’s studying him, and then he smacks his own leg gently with his hand. “I know how you can make it up to me.” 

“Oh, do tell.” 

“Bust me out of here, take me somewhere I can get a half decent steak, and we’ll call it even.” Jack raises his eyebrows at Mac, waiting for him to agree. 

Mac smiles. “You’ve got yourself a deal.” 

“Awesome, now help me get up so I can change and then go butter those nurses up.” Jack says, already swinging his legs off the bed. Mac goes over and helps him to his feet, steadying him as he stands. 

“You good?” 

“Never better.” 

“Cool, be right back. Don’t bust your stitches.” Mac says and then he’s out the door. 

\-- 

It takes twenty minutes, many smiles, and a lot of begging, but Mac eventually gets someone to sign off on Jack’s release. Mac fills the paperwork out while Jack struggles with his shirt, Jack signs the bottom, and they drop it at the nurses’ station. 

“Thank God for you and those baby blues or I’d be in there for days,” Jack huffs as he settles into the passenger side of Mac’s truck. 

Mac rolls his eyes and starts the truck. “Yeah, the nurses were so _not_ charmed by me. They just thought I was annoying and wanted me to leave them alone.” He corrects as he backs out of his spot. 

“Yeah, you are equal parts charming and annoying,” Jack says and Mac glares at him. 

“Shut up,” Mac gripes, “Anyway, the doctor says you have to stay with someone for a few weeks. Only way he’d agree to sign off on your release.” 

Jack groans like the child he is, and Mac rolls his eyes. “Come on, man. You can stay with me. Won’t be so bad.” 

“Yeah, guess not.” Jack concedes, though he still sounds put out, and Mac can’t help but smile as he rolls his eyes. 

\-- 

Mac buys Jack dinner despite the protesting – _shut up, you_ _got shot, I_ _’m_ _buying you dinner, Jack –_ and then they go home, full and happy and on great terms despite one of them having a hole in their stomach and the other being dead on his feet. 

Mac sets up Bozer’s old room with clean sheets while Jack showers in Mac’s bathroom, because he swears the water gets hotter in there. 

(It doesn’t, but Mac doesn’t tell Jack that.) 

Mac finishes straightening up and goes into his room just as Jack is stepping out of the master bathroom, shirtless and bearing a first aid kit. 

“Patch me up?” Jack shakes the contents and Mac ignores the way his mouth has dried out, nodding. He follows Jack back into the bathroom, standing in the door as Jack gets up onto the counter. Mac opens the kit up and sits it on the sink, pulling out the gauze and tape. 

“You alright?” Jack asks as Mac pulls lengths of tape off the roll with still shaky hands. He refuses to acknowledge why. 

Mac nods, moving to stand in front of Jack. “I’m fine. Why?” 

“Come on, Mac. You think I haven’t seen your hands shaking all day? You’ve got the steadiest hand on anyone I've ever met.” Jack points out, reaching for Mac’s hands where they’re pressing gauze over Jack’s stitches and stopping him. “What’s the matter?” 

Mac takes a deep breath and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes. He holds it for a four count, inhales on a four count. Breathing exercise Russ taught him, supposed to even out your heart rate. 

It doesn’t work. 

“I almost lost you,” Mac mumbles, hands going back to Jack’s torso. “You almost died right in front of me, man. And there wasn’t anything I could except sit there with you and wait for Matty to send help.” 

Jack doesn’t say anything, like he can tell Mac has more to say. Mac sighs and shakes his head, swallowing hard as he cleans the area around Jack’s wound. 

“And all I could think, the whole time, was that I had wasted all this time being angry. Angry over something I knew you didn’t mean. Angry for no fucking reason. I didn’t know what I’d do if I lost you, I couldn’t fathom a world without you in it, you know? The thought makes me want to fucking puke.” Mac says, choking out a bitter laugh. 

“Hey,” Jack says, voice low and warm and silky smooth, “stop. Look at me.” 

Mac looks up at him, tears in his eyes for the millionth time in the last 30 hours, and lets Jack covers Mac’s hands in his own. 

“I’m okay, Mac. You don’t have to feel bad for being angry with me. I shouldn’t have said those things to you. It wasn’t fair. You had every reason in the world to not speak to me.” Jack tells him barely above a whisper as he looks into Mac’s eyes. 

“Everything that happened before this, it don’t matter now, alright? You and me, we’re alright. I’m still kickin’,” Jack takes Mac’s hand and lays it over his chest, heart beating under Mac’s fingers, “and I ain’t leavin’ you anytime soon, okay? We got all the time in the world to make up for our mistakes.” 

Mac shudders as he feels the steady rhythm of Jack’s heart, warmth radiating from Jack’s skin. He closes his eyes and swallows hard, can’t help the tear that falls. He sucks in a shaking breath and opens his eyes to find Jack looking at him with something Mac rarely sees on Jack’s face. It's this soft look, so serious and filled with something Mac can never quite name, and it sets Mac on fire every time it’s directed at him. 

Mac has to pull his hand away before he does something incredibly stupid, goes back to bandaging Jack up, and _goddammit, why will his hands no_ _t stop shaking?_

“You wanna know what I was thinking when I was laying there?” Jack asks and Mac doesn’t say anything, just keeps taping and wrapping gauze. 

“I was thinking about you and Riley. I was thinking about how I wasn’t scared to die, because I knew you guys would be okay on your own. And I was thinking that if I was gonna die, being with you was a hell of a way to go.” Jack sighs and Mac can hear that he’s smiling, and it just makes Mac angry, knowing Jack is just so... _fine_ with leaving Mac alone. 

“Shut up, man. I don’t care how okay you are with dying. I’m not okay with you dying. Okay? I’m not. Especially not in my arms.” Mac snaps. 

“I know that, Mac, I’m not –” 

“No, don’t. You are _always_ telling me not to make you carry my death on your conscious. Well, I don’t want yours on mine, either.” Mac says, smoothing tape gently over the gauze, gentleness a stark contrast to his harsh tone. 

“I know that.” Jack whispers. 

Mac starts cleaning up the mess he’s made on the sink, slamming things down and dropping them, because his hands are shaking more than ever now, they’ve never done this before, he’s a bomb tech for _fucking crying_ _out loud_ _, Mac, get it together._

Beside him, Jack gets off the counter and takes the kit from his hands before it can go scattering across the floor. Mac leans against the counter, hands holding him up as he tries to breathe. 

“Talk to me, Mac.” 

Mac slams his hand on the counter and turns to face Jack, tears flowing freely. Mac can’t hold it in anymore, he’s been walking on thin ice for too long and it just shattered beneath him, emotions rising to the surface. 

“I cannot lose you, okay? I can’t. I have lost so much in my life. My mom, my grandfather, my dad. Everyone leaves me. You are the only person in the world who has never left me if they could help it and I’m telling you, Jack, if you die, I’m going to fucking fall apart. Okay? I lose everyone, and I love you too much to lose you, too.” 

“Hey, hey, come here.” Jack sits the kit on the counter and pulls Mac into his arms, one hand cradling the back of his head gently. Mac slumps into his bare chest and cries, sobbing like a child. Jack just holds him, stroking his hands through Mac’s hair and muttering soothing words in his ear. Mac cries until there’s nothing left in him, body aching and eyes burning. He tries to pull away from Jack, but he doesn’t let Mac go far. He keeps him close, one hand on the small of Mac’s back and the other on Mac’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear. 

“I’m _never_ going to leave you if I have the choice, Mac. I promise you that.” Jack breathes, so close Mac can feel it against his own skin, “Come hell or high water, I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

Mac closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Jack’s, sliding his arms around Jack’s neck. He feels like his skin is on fire but he’s more grounded than he’s been in months, the world melting away around him and he feels like he can just breathe. 

“I’m in love with you,” Mac says because he feels like he can. He feels like it goes without saying but he needs to get it off his chest, needs to say it because he almost never got the chance to. 

Everything goes still and there’s a beat of silence before Jack is pressing Mac against the sink and kissing him like their lives depend on it. It takes Mac’s brain a minute to get with the program and then he’s kissing Jack back, giving as good as he gets, moaning softly into Jack’s mouth. Jack’s fingers are sliding through his hair and Mac is on _cloud fucking nine,_ this is his heaven, nothing has ever felt better than Jack tugging gently at his hair while he bites down on Mac’s lip. It’s hot and it’s dirty and it’s desperate and Mac is hard before he even knows it. When he pulls aw ay to breath, Jack moves on to Mac’s jaw, sucking at the spot just below his ear, and Christ, that feels _incredible._ Mac moans breathily and he can feel Jack smiling against his throat, biting down and _okay,_ “You have to stop.” 

Jack doesn’t move from where he’s mouthing a line down Mac’s throat. “Is that what you want?” He says, voice rough, accent thick and Mac is literally so turned on it hurts. 

“No, but, _fuck,_ you have to.” Mac moans as Jack slides calloused fingers across the skin of Mac’s hips beneath the waist band of his pants. “Because you are in no shape for doing the things this is making me want to do.” 

Jack nods and pulls away, lips swollen and eyes dark. “You’re right. Fuck.” He laughs and runs a hand through his hair, sighing before kissing Mac, sweet and chaste this time. 

Mac smiles into it and ignores how it makes his heart flutter. “You need to get some rest,” He chastises, their activities definitely going against the doctor’s orders. 

“Only if you’re comin’, too, darlin’.” Jack bargains, brushing Mac’s hair from his eyes. 

Mac blushes and ducks his head. “Of course I’m coming.” 

Jack smiles at that and they go into the bedroom, settling in next to each other like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like they’ve been doing it forever. 

Mac turns the lights off and lays down, head on Jack’s chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. They lay in silence, Mac drawing constellations between the scars that litter Jack’s chest, just barely awake when Jack breaks the quiet. 

“Mac?” 

“Hm?” Mac hums, eyes closed, content. 

“I love you. I never said it earlier.” Jack says into the darkness. 

Mac smiles. “I love you.” 

Mac lets Jack’s heartbeat and even breathing lull him into unconsciousness, and he sleeps a full night for the first time in months. 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you guys enjoyed!


End file.
